We All Have Fears, We are Varia
by S80
Summary: Even the greatest of men have nightmares in which they feel fear. A nightmare for each TYL!Varia member
1. Entitled to the Crown

A/N: A lot of people call Bel's twin brother by many names, but I'm using Rasiel. I think it sounds the coolest. D: You could set this time line sometime before TYL, but after the 'present'. Squalo's next!

* * *

It was finally happening. He would, at last, be recognized as the greater of the two, surpassing his twin brother killed in vain. After all the fights, tricks, and undermining, he, Belphegor, would be crowned as the truly superior one. The dainty silver-plated tiara would be replaced with a luxurious gold crown, encrusted with more than a handful of jewels to symbolize his greatness. The mused tips of his warm blonde hair would conform under the extra weight of the king's head wear, but that would be okay.

Prince the Ripper would finally be king.

His neck was kept warm by the black, billowy fur trim of the off-white layered cape draped around his broad shoulders. With each step he took in his pair of knee-high, rich black leather boots, he felt a sense of unyielding satisfaction. The red velvet path smoothed out under his steady, graceful pace. At the end awaited the throne that would symbolize his greatness, and around it there seemed to be nothing but shimmers of gold and the reflection of his smug grin in the polished surfaces of magenta kunzite.

"Ushishishi," the infamous laugh rumbling softly in his throat. Drawing closer to the plush seat of the elaborate, tall throne, he stopped to see Rasiel's reflection in the back drop of kunzite. The outfit a mirror image of his, even the colors reversed in favor of the relationship. Instead of putting on a distressed frown, the man split a rather eerie grin at the reflection, not bothering to turn around. "Come to watch the true heir be crowned?" Bel taunted, his voice rising ever so softly in arrogance.

Rasiel merely mocked his kin's laugh and descended down the velvet path in his own prideful stride. Level hair, equally warm blonde, swaying in his face. Although a thick layer of bangs curtained his eyes, Bel could feel his brother looking straight through him, hungrily eyeing the throne ahead.

"How sad that my dear brother has passed." Rasiel sighed sarcastically. He neared closer to Bel, an artificial grin on his face. Rivaled with his brother's grin, Bel merely stood where he was, waiting for the older twin to pass. "How sad, indeed, that my dear brother has passed." Bel retorted, pulling out his distinct knives, not even attempting to hide them. "Ushishishi, I was sure I buried you. No matter, killing you again will be easy."

It was Rasiel's turn to let out a chilly laughter. He did not seem pressed by the talk at all. In fact, it only seemed to make him even happier in a sick, twisted sense. "Maybe Bel could be proof that the dead can feel humiliated." Rasiel sang, making his walk to the throne a slow, enjoyable one. Under his mass of hair, Bel quirked a brow and felt his grin twitch. "What are you fucking talking about?" The knives were now poised dangerously in between his fingers.

The older of the twin smiled flippantly, pushing past Bel with resilient fingers to stand in front of the short length of steps up to the throne. "Ushishishi, Bel." Rasiel laughed darkly, making his trip up the stairs an agonizingly slow one.

"Did you really think you could beat me in succeeding to the crown?" Bel, unlike his brother, made quick work of the stairs and stood dangerously close to Rasiel. "Ushishishi, Rasiel." Bel quickly gained position behind his brother, holding up an array of knives to his neck. An uncharacteristic frown pulled at Bel's features as he realized that not even in the slightest bit was his prey scared. Why was that? "Do you value your life?" The Varia's resident genius jeered. He tested the resolution of his brother by pressing the knives even closer. Bel's jaw tightened when no response was gained.

"Oh, Belphegor, why did you have to commit suicide?" Rasiel stepped forward without hesitance, Bel's knives ghosting through his figure. He paused in front of the throne, looking at Bel through the reflective backdrop. "How cowardly to take your own life and not let someone else do it." Rasiel cooed, turning to face Bel now. "Isn't it humiliating? Killing yourself because you are afraid to lose before me?" An assuming air of superiority overtook his voice, a shaky laugh starting to sputter from his smug lips.

Bel, not recalling any of this, rushed forward in a half-psychotic dash and snarled at his brother, uncharacteristically angry without a smile. "The prince does not take his own life before anyone else's!" He barked in an unnerved tone. Knives clawed desperately at the jet-black cape that engulfed his brother's figure, but no scars, scratches, or even bruises were left in the scathing wake of Bel's attempts. "What's going on, Rasiel?" he growled, a twitchy grin reappearing on his face.

There was no answer to Bel's initial question, just another vague utterance from Rasiel.

"Really, Bel, you trashed your own name with that stunt. Not that it was anything to begin with~ Ushishishi, but now you're dead and there's nothing you can do about this. What was rightfully mine since birth is _going_ to be mine now." With a languid exhale of his breath, Rasiel fell back onto the throne, completely trusting that it would be there for him to land on. He made himself comfortable on the plush fabric and did not even bother to look up at Bel. "You didn't even deserve that tiara."

Bel grimaced, his face contorted into a confused and angry expression. He, the great prince, had killed himself!? That couldn't be! He would have never allowed that to happen! Even if Rasiel had managed to gain the upper hand, Bel knew he would have given up anything to win. Except his life.

He was far too vain to let himself die, and by his own hands at that.

If anyone was to be dead, it should have been Rasiel. Bel's voice lowered considerably to a threatening murmur. "I'll get you, bastard." Rasiel did not budge from his relaxed position. He brought his hands together in a resounding 'clap' and the floor beneath Bel's feet turned into the fanciful cloth of an extravagant dinner table.

"Please clean your plates, guests." Rasiel ordered, Bel in his line of sight. "And let us remember Bel, the coward who took his own life in fear of losing to yours truly."

Lose to Rasiel? He would never let that happen, even if he was dead under the current circumstances. "Ushishishi, those will be your last words, Rasiel!" And even if it did not work the first time, Bel attacked again in a fervent attempt to restore his name.

"Oh?" Calmly lifting his arm, Rasiel flicked off Bel's tiara with little interest and smiled pathologically when it shattered onto the dinner table. "Did someone break a glass?"

The faceless guests seated at the feast began to howl with monstrous laughter, Rasiel leading them in the mocking chorus.

"Someone clean that trash up, it'll get into the food." Rasiel smiled. And with an even greater force and determination before, Bel threw every knife he had on his person at Rasiel's head, panicking a bit more each time it would ghost through like before.

---

He bolted up right, panting erratically in his bed. Bel pushed heatedly away at the covers and produced a set of knives in one hand. His mouth, which had been set in a darkly straight line, opened way for a small gasp. Rasiel was not there. There were no dinner guests, no polished jewels, no lush clothing, no shattering of his tiara.

Bel turned his head to glance at the nightstand, secretly relieved to see his tiara tucked away safely in an exquisite display box. "Ushishishi, only a dream, eh?" The man situated himself back into bed, lying on his back so he could pull the covers back up. The knives were returned to their place under his pillow and his usual grin crept back into its place.

"He was never crowned." Bel murmured to himself.

"He was never crowned, and that itself is a wonderful dream." Repeated like a mantra, it soon put the man to sleep with a lopsided grin on his face.


	2. Drown in Your Own Sin

A/N: Dying must be a fear of everyone's, right? Squalo can't be any different. I'm sure this was subtly influenced by the after math of his and Yamamoto's ring battle. Goodness, I've taken so long to update this fic. I believe Lussuria is next~

* * *

The sky seemed to be immense with stark shades of gray as it bowled around the surrounding area, the slate blue of the sea not doing anything to elevate the ominous feeling it gave. Water, unusually still, struck up a bad melody with the equally still sky, causing their solo observer to narrow his hues bitterly. His eyes took on the color of the gray sky and darted around in heated confusion. Superbi Squalo wanted to scowl at the unfamiliarity, but found it impossible with an elaborately tied gag over his mouth.

He could feel the neatly knotted rope ensnare his hands as well as his legs, a strong lock of braided twine connecting them in the back. Squalo let out a vicious growl deep in his throat, the only thing he could do. Feeling so helpless in a position like so, he thrashed around like a wild animal, silver hair limply tossed about. It was tiring, though, as if he had no energy to even show his anger! Since when had he never been able to express such feelings? Even under the strictest of consequences, a strangled cry of vengeance would be made known by Squalo and his uninviting sneer. But not here, no, only muffled sounds of anger could be made out in the silence; quite possibly the only other thing around besides the water and sky.

The dock groaned in discomfort, creaking under Squalo's restless movements. His brows furrowed together in a half anguished, half laughing close of his eyes. He was on a most likely rotting dock in the middle of a still body of water with no land mass nearby to estimate his whereabouts. There was no recollection of him happily obliging to be here and the man was sure he would have remembered if he had something to do in a place like so.

"Oh, so you've awaken?" a voice graveled by time brusquely teased. Instantly, Squalo jolted up in an attempt to attack, already assuming that the body that went to the voice was the one that done this. "Ah, it is almost pathetic to see you like so." Having not found the voice's owner, Squalo put his tired eyes to use and skimmed the area he could see. It was just a simple little dock, perhaps not even large enough to hold five people. The small platform was strong, supported by six beams of ocean-caressed wood and as sturdy as Squalo's mind was sharp. It donned on him quickly that no one else was near him and that the voice he heard was merely his mind losing it.

How long had it been since he had awakened on this ocean bound platform? The sky was never changing and life was absent within the water. The temperature was annoyingly constant with its humidity, making his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin.

"There's only one way out, Squalo, and you know what it is." the same voice drawled sadistically. No, he _absolutely refused_ to acknowledge it. Either die by the unrelenting hands of time or just end his own life, and there was only one way out; both choices lead to the same fate. His eyes blew up with anger, pupils tiny dots that made him look insane. "Heh, you look angry." the voice commented in a sardonic sense. In reply, Squalo started up his rage and caused the voice to laugh and the dock to wobble. "Oh, Squalo, Squalo, Squalo. Squalo." All he wanted to do right now was shut that voice up, but between his small breaks from thrashing about, he only had the strength to continue to glare into the eternal sky. "You want to know why you are here?" Squalo's eye twitched violently; that was a yes.

He gritted his teeth to near breakage at the explanation. "Because you're full of pride, and that is a sin." Some godly force reigned down on Squalo, sending a kick into his side. He was thrown close to the edge of the dock, teetering slightly with a blood lusty look in his eyes. Even if he could talk, words could not describe how he felt his pride be stripped away, tied by these ropes and made useless with no one around. The sky and sea could be as unsympathetic as he was. "A sin, a sin, a sin." With each daunting remark, a kick was deliver to opposing sides of his body; a kick to the left side of his head, a kick to his right leg, a kick to his left arm. But, what was kicking him?

Squalo writhed around a bit more, his chest visibly heaving with anger; he wasn't going to give up the fight just yet. He wasn't going to take the foreboding voice's abuse.

He wasn't going to die there.

He rolled over to the edge of the platform, eyes straining to look down into the water. He was prideful, yes. So very much, in fact, that he wouldn't allow this voice to take his own life. "Can you really swim?" the voice cooed sarcastically. Squalo stared off into dead space for a moment, his eyes glazed over in countenance.

The sky reflected the feelings that currently emulated from his being. He felt dull, monotonous, but he was emotionally sprawled everywhere at the moment. He wondered if it had to end like this.

"We all know what you're going to do," Squalo refocused his eyes to see a flock of swallows fly over head, mournfully dipping low to the water and then back up in aerial grace. "Might as well do it now." Another kick. It was the last thing he felt before a rush of air bubbles ran over his eyes. The water was colder than he had anticipated, but that didn't really matter; he would die soon anyway.

But damn.

_Damn, damn, damn, damn._

_**DAMN.**_

Squalo let himself sink in the water, which was surprisingly clear for its murky gray appearance. It would have been futile to move, but he romped about any way. If he could get the breath out of his body fast enough, then perhaps he could die knowing that it was his own self that took his life and not this disembodied voice of self-righteousness. But it was an odd thing; air kept replenishing itself within his lungs and he miraculously never inhaled any water. What kind of miracle is that, though? Squalo's eyes shot open with a look of true blind sightedness and he began to move about even more. He wasn't dying! The Varia swordsman wasn't happy about this, though, not at all. Not in the least. A resounded laughter echoed in his ears.

"What will kill you first? Time, lunacy, or your own pride?"

From the corner of his eye, Squalo could see a voluminous shark slice through the water towards him.

"I'm willing to bet it's _you_."

---

Squalo involuntarily twitched on his bed, panting heavily with shut eyes. The second hand on the clock could be heard counting the moments it took for the man's breathing to even out. He slowly opened his eyes, dreading to find out where he was. He was in his room, his blanket moved by his wild sleeping movements, and it was currently four in the morning. His mouth closed silently as he shifted his position in bed to accommodate for the tossed blanket. Using the loose sheets, he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and made himself comfortable to get another two hours of sleep in.

"Just some fucked up dream..." Squalo murmured. His brows slightly furrowed together.

Because he was too prideful to say it was a nightmare.


	3. Dereliction of the Family

**Author's Note:** Ah, I never seem to want to write angst whenever I'm not angsting, but I need to update this! So, here we go ladies (and gentlemen?), let's peek into the mind of the fabulous Lussuria. Eight years later, perhaps? Viper's dead, but Fran hasn't joined. This is super angsty. The updates for this fic will be _very_ slow, in case you haven't noticed. It's not very high on my priority list. Warnings? Violence, gore, character deaths. Angst. Lots... and lots. Of angst. I tried to put the best emotion I could mutter into this one~ I believe Levi's next.

* * *

He woke up to screaming, yelling, running, crashing, shattering, cursing, fussing, and explosions.

Wouldn't that all have been a normal day under the Varia roof? But the barking of lower ranked commanders made this a serious deal. It was an attack, an attack on the Varia's home base.

"Oh my, I wonder what the commotion is." Lussuria sighed, nonchalantly pulling on his suit jacket. He wasn't really worried, because if push came to shove, he knew his family of rowdy boys could take out just about everyone within a five mile radius. Looking out the window, Lussuria could see smoke spiraling into the dark, blood red sky. Had he been sleeping _that_ long? Or perhaps it was a fire that cast the deathly color into the purity of the usual blue hue. It wasn't long before he found out it was indeed a fire that was masking the sky of its true nature. Lussuria already sensed the danger that was approaching the window and used his incredibly fast foot work to maneuver to the other side of the room, conveniently standing next to the door. An elaborate explosive device hurled into the window with such a force that it sent glass flying into the corners of the room. Why wasn't he alerted to the attack earlier?

The explosive started to leak its substance, causing Lussuria to question its activeness. He was soon righted when another substance started to spill out from the other side, instantly igniting with the first one. A simultaneous explosion happened before his tightly shut eyes and arms up to keep debris from creating deep cuts on his upper body. There was no way an attack like this would have gone unnoticed under his radar; he concluded that the attack was more of an ambush-- and on home turf, no less! Lussuria quickly pulled open the door that connected the sunroom with the main corridor and swept his vision side to side. "Bel!" he cried at the sight of the blonde's mangled body, the young man clawing at the floor to drag himself forward. Lussuria instantly gasped at the sight he saw; Bel's legs looked like two continuous rivers of red, a trail of the prince's blood leading from the living room. "Ushishi, Lussuria..." he strained to laugh, grinning weakly at his senior. It came across as a shock to Lussuria, to see someone like Bel in such a state. Whoever was attacking, they must have been very powerful to do this to Bel. "Bel!" the man exclaimed, rushing over in flurry of panic. He quickly knelt down next to the still crowned prince and moved to support him, but his hands were shooed away in a feeble swat. "You're a failure to the Varia." Bel coughed, rousing the blood in his throat to splatter onto the dusty hardwood floor below him. "You let us all die." Lussuria's brows furrowed together; if Bel was being a smart-ass, he was choosing to be one at the wrong time. "What are you talking about?" Lussuria kept his tone steady, but his grimacing pout belied his feelings. It hurt to have Bel say that, and by the grin on Bel's face, Lussuria was sure the blonde knew just exactly what the accusation would do.

It would destroy him.

"Maybe you can redeem yourself, ushishi--" Bel hacked up more of the thick substance before falling limp. His body hit the floor with a 'thud'. "But you're not that good... no, you're not that good..." Lussuria heard the forlorn muttering repeated in a dwindling volume a few more times before Bel departed into a permanent silence. "Belphegor..." He felt himself wanting to see the psychotic, blood mad Bel laughing with a maniacal vigor before him, not this silent body that couldn't possibly be the boy he watched grow-up for almost 10 years of his life. He had died cursing his value to the Varia and Lussuria didn't know whether to take that as a cleverly wrapped up compliment or a real insult on his person. Tears did not instantly spring to the boxer's eyes, but they were close, oh, they were close. He stood up and walked past Bel's body, knowing that if he sat and cried over it that the others could be found in a similar fate. Was that how it felt when a mother lost her children?

He hadn't walked far when Levi was running towards him, running to escape he had noted, and stopped when he spotted the other Varia. "Lussuria! An attack! A full-scale attack!" his alerting shouts almost made Lussuria feel a bit better, but his weak smile would soon turn into an accused 'o'. "There's an attack on the base and you're not even doing anything! Boss! I have to check on boss--!!" Levi shoved Lussuria aside, regarded Bel's body with the disgusted contortion of his face and sent Lussuria a dirty glare as he turned the corner, going into a staccato of "Boss! Boss!" The whole place was in flames now, giving everything a dramatic light-- but everything looked like a charred piece of a support beam or smoldering furniture.

Maybe even the body of another one of his fellow Varia men.

Lussuria shook the morbid thought out of his head. It wasn't as if this was _his_ fault. He-- he just wasn't aware of the situation! But he was the self-proclaimed mother of this estate, how could he not know!? A loud groan of what surely prelude to the collapsing of a structure made Lussuria panic as he saw the area Levi had run to cave-in on itself. "Please don't let it be, please don't..." Lussuria chanted to himself. His slow steps over to the flaming rubble only caused the uneasiness in his stomach to triple. This was as close as he could get to the fire. Standing nearly fifteen feet away, Lussuria shed a few tears, and he cried even more when they evaporated as soon as they slid down his cheek. He had to turn away and control himself from just breaking down there when he saw the large, familiar boots Levi wore sticking out of the rubble and being devoured by the flames. Lussuria was going to pretend Xanxus was outside showing the intruders just who the Varia were and not trapped under the rubble with Levi. Levi and his unintended cremated grave.

Continuing further away from the dead pair, Lussuria coughed and tepidly made his way through less scarred places of the Varia home, but nonetheless scarred. He had reached the living room and a disappointed whine left his throat when he saw the furniture flipped over and smoke, concealing their blackened fabric with the cough-inducing veil. With his smarting eyes, Lussuria skimmed the area, so dearly hoping that he wouldn't see anyone. A sigh of relief left him as he continued on, ignoring the flames licking the crumbling legs of the coffee table. Now he was outside, and he cringed at the fact he didn't need to open the door since there was a gaping hole where it would have been. "Bastards..." Lussuria cursed, his face grim and painted with an expression that 'hurt' couldn't even begin to describe. For such an attack, though, the man saw no one around, only fires ranging from red to yellow surrounding the area in a death cage. It seemed to close in by the second. He wanted someone to blame for all of this, someone to blame for Bel's untimely death, someone to blame for the way the beams groaned in protest when they bought Levi down permanently. And someone to blame for that feeling of culpability that had been imprinted on him with Bel's dying words and the last words Levi had said to him. Just someone to blame for all of this, because it couldn't have possibly been his fault, it couldn't possibly have been!

"Voi!" came the wounded cry not too far off. Lussuria attempted to use his speedy footwork to flash over to whom he knew would be Squalo, but his legs refused to listen and he had to settle for a speedy run. Why his legs felt so heavy all of a sudden, he did not know. Sweat perspired down his forehead, his green bangs sticking to his face now as his sunglasses slumped down the bridge of his nose. This just couldn't be happening. "Squalo!" Lussuria half panted, eyes hurrying in their search for the long haired Varia assassin. "Squalo! Where are you?" he yelled despite his breathlessness. Perhaps Bel had been right, perhaps he _could_ redeem himself. If he could save Squalo, then perhaps he wouldn't feel so useless as Levi had implied or as Bel had downright accused him of. His mind quickly drove away the though of Squalo perishing; would the swordsman use his dying breath to curse him as well? The vague feeling creeping into the left side of his upper torso already told him it would do more than destroy him. It would destroy whom he was and whom he had been, so factiously hiding behind the title as the Varia's 'mother'.

The wheezing sound of labored breaths bought Lussuria running towards Squalo. His head was turned on its side, but his body was on its stomach. Through the dirtied strands of Squalo's long hair, Lussuria could see the heaving of his lungs. Squalo was breathing. _Thank goodness, Squalo is breathing_, he thought as he kneeled down next to the swordsman. Lussuria was careful with his hands, gently turning Squalo's body so that his chest faced upward. An opened mouth grimace of disgust paired with his narrowed eyes as he saw shrapnel embedded in the man. Squalo's mouth remained opened in a pained way as he greedily sucked in air to live. He had one eye open to peer at his senior, the other surrounded by gashes that suggested his eye had been struck too. "Squalo, I'll heal you!" Squalo's breathing remained in its labored pace as Lussuria quickly fumbled for his box weapon. But he couldn't find it! He grinded his teeth together and turned his head away from Squalo dejectedly; it had most likely fallen out with the first explosion. "Squalo..." With a gentle touch, Lussuria moved the hair out of Squalo's face. He observed the look in Squalo's eye, the slow contracting of his pupils, and how his mouth was barely controlled by him now, how it was only open on instinct for all possible air consummation. "I'm sorry, Squ-chan..." Lussuria's voice had turned into that of a soft melody. He swallowed his fear now; because it was obvious Squalo's injuries were far too serious for him to heal, even if he had his box animal's power. "Forgive me," his voice had turned pleading now. "Forgive me, Squalo!" With a lazy flick of his good eye, Squalo watched Lussuria begin to sob into his hands. The assassin's silver brow narrowed with his eye. His lips quivered as he tried to mouth out a word. Lussuria watched in anxiety, dreading that this one, too, would be less than forgiving. Squalo's breathing became more violent as his mouth twitched on a grander scale. He made sounds reminiscing to a dying animal before weakly mouthing 'No' and expelling blood from his throat. His head fell to the side as blood leaked out of his mouth, staining the beautiful hair Lussuria always loved to see. "Aha," Lussuria choked out in a sob. He almost couldn't believe it.

Everyone in the Varia was built up into an image of strength, cunning wit, and immortality even! But during this mysterious attack, everyone had fallen-- their best just wasn't good enough, apparently. Lussuria inhaled a shaky breath and lifted himself up from his kneeling position. His body felt heavier than he remembered. Possibly laden with the guilt of letting their deaths happen, possibly from the fact that he couldn't do anything even when their lives hung in front of him by glass string, swaying gently in front of him before their movement became erratic and it snapped, leaving him with a stinging pain and an emotional cut that was only constricted by the delicate string; the string so sharp yet so beautiful. That was their life. And he let it end. "Do I still have one more chance?" Lussuria sobbed out, his tears never ending. "Is Xanxus still alive?" Lussuria tore his gaze upward to avoid looking at Squalo's body and spotted his boss standing nonchalantly at the end of the balcony. "Xan... Xanxus!" Lussuria cried out, almost inaudibly when his hiccupped sobs attacked. Xanxus' expression was difficult to make out from his position, but through the smog and with the help of the fire, he could see that Xanxus sported an expression of mingled disappointment and anger. It was his usual look, but this time the look was directed at him--Lussuria. There had been an empty wine glass in between Xanxus' hands, and he let it fall to the ground floor. Lussuria wanted to cry in joy (at the fact that Xanxus was alive), but he also wanted to sob until his eyes fell out at the intense look Xanxus gave him with those narrowed, hating red eyes.

Lussuria ran forward to stand below the balcony, already on his knees and pulling his hands up into a begging fist. "Xanxus--!" Lussuria wanted to beg for forgiveness, thinking if Xanxus accepted his apology, he could stretch it for everyone else and feel reprieved of the grief that had so quickly accumulated on his shoulders. No words would spring to his throat but Xanxus' name in a desolate tone. "Xanxus, Xanxus!" With that piercing red glower, Xanxus stared down his nose at Lussuria. He snorted in amusement, much to Lussuria's dismay, before upturning his nose at the man. "Xanxus..." he sputtered, using his arms to support himself from falling into the ground altogether. "I would have done something, I really would have!" Lussuria yelled to the ground. "I wouldn't have let this happen!" His anguished cry became silent as the whole Varia base came down in a tumble of flaming bricks and wood. "This shouldn't be happening! It _shouldn't_!" was what Lussuria would have said if he could even move his mouth out of its parted stupor. He watched from behind cracked sunglasses lens as Xanxus' figure burned before him, half caught in the rubble. The flames were cold compared to the red glare Xanxus pinned him with.

The flames then engulfed Lussuria entirely, his vision only a mess of bloody reds and faded oranges and the look of disappointment in each Varia officer's eyes before their final breath. Bel's words echoed in his head.

_"No, you're not that good... you're not that good..."_

He had failed at protecting the ones he cherished most.

And there was no one to blame but himself.

---

He didn't know what time it was, or what was even happening. All he knew was he was sobbing silently into his pillow, so glad that there was noise within the Varia home. Squalo's morning "Voi!" echoed down the hall, Bel's pressed laugh creeping under his door as Levi's string of curses retorted. Then came the deafening shatter of glass as all three of them promptly became silent under Xanxus' order.

Lussuria never thought he would have been so happy to hear the messy squad known as the Varia, his sobs dwindling into more controlled sniffles. But the -- **nightmare** -- would always haunt him. He would never let that happen as the Varia Sun Guardian, destroying the misfortune that attacks his family with his own body, becoming the sun that brightly shines for them.

And only for them. Always.


End file.
